


Gym Class

by quicksparrows



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Fluff, High School, M/M, Schmoop, idk - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-11
Updated: 2017-03-11
Packaged: 2018-10-02 14:51:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 767
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10220672
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/quicksparrows/pseuds/quicksparrows
Summary: Noctis has a little gambit to avoid gym class, at least until Prompto encourages him to try.





	

**Author's Note:**

> For Christine.

"So how come you get to skip gym class?" Prompto asks during second period.

Noctis blinks at him, calm but perplexed, as if this is something Prompto should already know.

"I have private training," Noctis supplies, finally. He sits a little lower in his seat, the chair's plastic back creaking as he does. His knees are spread lazily, hands fisted deep in his pockets.

"So you can't do regular gym class?" Prompto asks, confused. "A game of basketball or volleyball here or there going to throw off your regimen?"

Noctis's mouth twitches into the slightest smile.

"No," he says. "But I tell them and Ignis that's what Gladio says. So I can sleep later."

"They let you get away with that?"

Prompto sits forward in his seat a little. The hum of the classroom around them is a protective bubble, sealing them from whatever secrets the Crown Prince might share, and Prompto is all ears for his new friend.

"Maybe," Noctis says. "There'll be hell to pay when they figure it out. Or Gladio does, anyway."

Prompto whistles low.

"You sneaky dog," he says.

Noctis just nods once, short and confident.

"Don't you wanna play, though?" Prompto asks. "I mean, gym class is the most fun class there is."

Noctis shrugs, and the teacher walks in, and that's all that's said about it.

 

* * *

 

The next morning, Prompto is surprised to see Noctis join them on the gym floor. He'd likely slipped into the change rooms late, after the rest of them had already gotten into warm ups, but maybe only because he'd overslept — Noctis certainly doesn't relish all the eyes swiveling to him.

"My trainer is sick today," he supplies to their bewildered gym teacher. No other excuses, no intent, nothing. Just that, and he crouches down next to Prompto.

"Hey," Prompto says. "You made it, buddy."

It's the first time he's called Noctis _buddy_ , and Prompto feels alarmed at his own mouth, but Noctis doesn't comment. He just looks off to the rest of the class, but with a new ease, a little softness to his eyes. Prompto feels his heart quicken a little.

"Yeah," Noctis says, smoothly. "You said it was fun."

"I didn't think you'd take it seriously."

Noctis just smiles — a rare sight that makes Prompto tingle from his head to his toes.

 

* * *

 

Noctis is terrible at volleyball. Objectively terrible. It's particularly annoying because he _could_ be good, but he chooses not to try. He seems to daydream more often than not, and a ball headed his way is likely to be appraised well before its time:  _not worth it. Too far. Not gonna skin my knees diving for that._   His judgement is harsh, and their classmates exasperated.

Prompto has acquired at least three bruises before Noctis deigns to step forward, raise his wrists and send a ball volleying back over the net. From across the court, Prompto watches his buddy land a point, pace a slow circle as their peers cheer, and then wipe his forehead with the back of his hand. 

Noctis turns to Prompto and says: "That was fun."

"You barely did anything," Prompto blurts, laughing.

Noctis shrugs, unoffended, but he doesn't say much after that. Prompto worries he won't come back, but the next morning, Noctis walks in late again, and the morning after that, too.

 

* * *

 

A week of classes goes by, and then Noctis vanishes again. Prompto looks for him coming in the gymnasium door through most of the period, oddly anxious. He takes a volleyball to the head on not one but two occasions for his distraction, but Noctis never shows.

In second period, Noctis slouches into class, mouth tense, eyes bored. He takes his seat to Prompto's left.

"What happened to you?" Prompto asks.

"Ignis figured out what I was doing and told both the teacher and Gladio," Noctis says, coolly. "So now I have six AM training with Gladio, instead of _after_ school."

Prompto bursts out laughing.

"It's not funny!" Noctis says, grousing. "I'm tired, and now I have to sit through classes."

"H-ha ha haaaa," Prompto giggles, barely stifled behind a hand. "That sucks! But you had them going for a while, huh?"

"Yeah," Noctis says. "I think I'd rather gym with my friend, though."

Prompto stops laughing there: _friend_.

"You serious?" he says.

"Yeah," Noctis repeats.

"Cool," Prompto says. "I wish you could, too, buddy. You might actually get good at volleyball, with a few more months."

"Hey," Noctis laughs, and he reaches across the aisle with a foot to nudge Prompto's desk. "Lay off."

But his laugh is music to Prompto's ears.


End file.
